


Snap Shots

by ShezzasCompanion



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Discussion of Torture, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lizlock - Freeform, Nightmares, Parentlock, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unilock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/pseuds/ShezzasCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the moments in life are best remembered in snipets, snap shots. Sometimes the snap shots are the only things that can be remembered.</p><p>A collection of Lizlock ficlets/drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_east_wind_is_coming](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_east_wind_is_coming/gifts).



> These Ficlets and Drabbles are not in order and are not a part of the same Universe.

“What do you mean he is s _till_ alive?” Elizabeth hissed as she stared at Mycroft. Her arms crossed in front of her chest and her body was favoring one leg over the other as she stood. She was angry, livid and confused at the man’s words. It didn’t seem possible that Sherlock could still be alive, it didn’t make sense. She had seen him die, she had watched him jump from the building and onto the sidewalk below. The image that met her as she rounded the ambulance station would be one that would haunt her for the rest of her life. There on the ground laid Sherlock, a small group of bystanders around his body, attempting to render aid. Though she knew it was impossible. There was blood everywhere, on the pavement and on Sherlock. His dark curls soaked with black blood and tissue from where his skull had cracked on impact. Blood had leaked from his nose and mouth and some had traveled down his face from his head wound, leaving trails of burgundy in their wake.

 

There was no way that could have been faked she told herself. Mycroft was just telling her this as a part of a sick and cruel joke. He was trying to play with her emotions, to turn her grief into anger. At least that was what she was hoping. However she had known Mycroft for years and he was not one for bouts of humor let alone twisted jokes.

 

Mycroft sighed in response and reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket to retrieve a slip of paper no bigger than a business card before handing it to her. The nurse stared at the slip of paper between the eldest Holmes’ fingers before glancing up at his face as she gingerly took it.

 

The card was bright white in color and made out of thick premium paper that undoubtedly came from Mycroft’s office. Type across what she assumed was the front of the card was a web address and as she flipped the card over, written across the back was a user name and password.

 

“When you have a chance after your shift ends, I suggest logging in with the information on the card, you will find all of the answers you are looking for, waiting for you there.”

 

Elizabeth held the card between her fingers as she watched Mycroft turn and walk away from her. She didn’t know what to think about this rather strange encounter between the two of them or if she was actually going to follow his instructions and log into the website he had give her.

 

The nurse sighed and slipped the card into her pocket before walking back to the nurses station to finish out her shift.

 

Six hours later found Elizabeth staring at the screen of her laptop as she sat on the floor of her flat. The information on the card typed into the log in page of what appeared to be a blogging website. She was skeptical that the answers she sought were there, just waiting for her to find. She stared at the screen for what felt like hours, with her mouse hovering over the log in button, half tempted to press the button, half tempted to shut the laptop lid and go to bed.

 

She sighed and closed her eyes as she hit the button. Elizabeth could feel her heart rate increase and a wave of nausea wash over her at the thought of nothing actually being there. That after nine months, Mycroft was pulling her leg. Which if he was, he would hear about it next time he stopped by to see her.

 

She opened her eyes to find one, just one, text post waiting for her.

 

_E_ _lizabeth,_

_If you are reading this then Mycroft did something that I asked of for once, and if you aren’t, that is something I will discover when I return to London. I guess it is rather obvious that I am not dead, that the jump from the roof top did not kill me. It was all just a magic trick like I said, a rather believable one at that. I understand that you are angry, livid, upset. You have every right to be upset with me for what I did to you, for the pain that I caused. It was the last thing I wanted to do, however I did it out of necessity. Your life and lives of several others where threatened and I could not risk any of you being hurt. In order to protect the people I care about, I had to fake my death and make it look believable._ _It was never my intention to hurt you or anyone, I just wanted to keep you safe. That is what I am doing now. Trying to keep you safe._


	2. After the wedding

It seemed like a good idea at first, numbing he pain from the wedding. It seemed like a good idea to show up at his older dealers place for a score, and it seemed like a good idea to pay for the cocaine with the only thing he had. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times to clear his eight before taking in his surroundings. He was in the same flat he had entered the night before, thought the bedroom looked different in the light. The walls were off white and dingy and the room itself smelled of stale cigarettes,beer, and sex. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest when the reality of what he had did came crashing down on him. He swore to himself silently as he went to move, only to realize he couldn’t, his body was being held in place by an arm across his waist, and the warm chest he was pressed against.

He couldn’t remember the last time the man whose bed he was in actually showed some signs of affection such as this, though that was most likely the reason Victor never became anything more than an old boyfriend and his occasional dealer, thought the contact was more than welcome at the moment as long as it enabled him to forget why he was actually in the bed.

He could feel the man holding him wake up, the way his chest expanded as he took a deep breathe before exhaling and most likely opening his eyes to find Sherlock there, thought what followed was not what he had been expecting thought he should told himself later he should have expected nothing less. The arm withdrew from his waist quickly as Victor sat up before he was shoved from the mattress,

“Get out.” Victor said, his voice cold and even as he spoke as Sherlock landed on the floor, gasping as his body was jarred, he didn’t take the time to categorize all that hurt as he hurriedly grabbed the tux that had been discarded on the floor, pulling the material on over his body as quickly as he could before fleeing before things came flying at him. His waistcoat, tie, and socks where stuffed into the pocket of his coat as he made his way out of the building and onto the street to hail a cab.

Like always one arrived as soon as his hand went up in the air, sliding in he gave the driver his address and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep, and that was an option at the moment, he had nothing planned and there was no one to bother him and his sleep, at least not any more.

The drive to his flat wasn’t that long, it was still rather early so traffic was light, for which he was grateful, it meant there was less of a chance for his fellow Londoners to witness his walk of shame. He paid the man as soon as the cab came to a stop at the curb. He slid out of the vehicle and pulled out his key and unlocked the door, carefully making his way upstairs as to not disturb Mrs. Hudson or Elizabeth, for he was certain they were both sleeping off the alcohol they had consumed the night before.

The door to his flat was unlocked and left ajar making Sherlock furrow his brow before cautiously entering. The smell of coffee assaulted his nose as he got in as far as the couch before pulling off his coat and tossing it on the sofa. his heart was still pounding and the adrenaline was still pumping through his body as he made his way to the kitchen door to find Elizabeth sitting there. She was still dressed in the champagne colored dressed she wore to her Brother’s wedding, a cup of coffee between her hands. She had stayed up to wait for him then.

The nurse turned and looked at him, but she didn’t say anything s she took him in, his wrinkled clothes, messy hair, the look on his face and the way he held his body. He had gone out to get high, he had gotten high and he had paid for it a less than admirable way. He shifted under her gaze and she sighed, slowly standing before approaching the man she had known for so long, stopping in front of him to hold out her arms invitingly.

He was certain she would be upset, he had gotten high the proof was in the crooks of his elbows. Slowly he shook his head and looked down, clenching his hands.

“I am not going to hurt you, I’m not upset with you.” She said softly and he looked at her before giving in and practically falling into her arms, his lips touching her cheek before his arms wrapped around her. Of course she would be the one inviting him into her arms even thought he smelled of sweat and sex and his clothes reeked of Victors cheap cologne and smoke. Her hands gently running over his back before her lips touched his temple.

Everything as leaving him now, his energy, the adrenaline rush leaving the symptoms of withdraw, he started to feel tired and his body was beginning to tremble and he was starting to feel his body ache.

“Why don’t you go take a shower before you fall over?” she asked as she pulled away and held him at arm’s length, “I’ll get you some clean clothes.” She smiled as he nodded and headed towards his bedroom as he shuffled towards the bathroom. he left the door ajar slightly to allow her to slip the clothes in while he was washing up. quietly he kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket, wincing at the movement.

A strangled sound escaped his throat as he tried to removed his shirt but found it was stuck to his body, pulling on his back and that was when he turned to examine it in the mirror. the fabric was colored crimson from blood, and that was when he realized he didn’t how rough and violent things had gotten the night before, but that was most likely due to the fact he had been flying rather high.

“L-Liz…” He sobbed as he looked towards the door as she opened it, tears in his eyes and she opened it more to set the clothes down before walking towards him. God everything hurt now, everything seemed to be amplified by the withdraw and he could feel everything He didn’t want to, Quickly she moved towards the shower, turning on the water, before going t help him out of his clothes. he leaned against her as she carefully pulled his shirt from his back, crying out as it pulled in the frayed edges of the torn skin.

“It’s okay.” She soothed as she tossed the shirt to the floor, figuring that his ride to the flat and her rubbing his back and managed to stick the shirt to the wounds, which look to have been reopened. She had fallen into her work mode helping him finish undressing before guiding him to the shower. carefully he stepped in and hissed as the water stung his back as he sunk to the bottom of the tub as she rushed up to her room, grabbing her kit before coming back down to find him in the same place she had left him. his shoulders where moving as he sobbed in pain and discomfort

She knelled next to the tub, running her fingers through his hair trying to separate his curls before she poured shampoo into her hands and began to wash his hair.

He didn’t look at her as she gently worked his hair into a lather letting it sit before grabbing a flannel to begin to gently clean his body with the fragrance free wash she had brought with her. a whimper escaped his lips as she cleaned his back and chest.

“I-I’m sorry.” he murmured when he finally looked up, pain etched on his face as he took in he fact she was kneeling by the tub, water splashing on her dress,but she didn’t seem to care.

“It’s not your fault.” She said as she rinsed him off before turning off the after and reaching for a towel to grab before helping him to his feet wrapping it around his waist. he gripped her arms as he stood, his weight being distributed to her as he stepped over the lip of the tub and as she guided him to the chair that was there.

Silence fell over them as the nurse carefully tended to his back,cleaning it more thoroughly with iodine wipes before numbing the skin then finally stitching him up. his weight was against her as she tended to him, layering non stick gauze on his back before gingerly wrapping it in bandages.

tears continued to stream down his face as she helped him dress and then pulled him carefully to his feet before guiding him to his bed. the smell of his room was inviting, it smelled like home and warmth and comfort as she pulled back the covers and lowered him down, making sure he laid on his side before pulling the covers up around him. She lowered the blinds in the room to keep out the light and she left the door cracked open as she left to clean up the bathroom and change her clothes before slipping back into his room to watch over him.


	3. Safety First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only way to teach chemistry is to teach it right. (Parentlock)

Sherlock took a moment to step back and take in the set up he had in the kitchen. He had laid out a thick layer of newspaper under and around the kitchen table as a sort of precautionary measure and to cut down on possible spreading of any liquid that fell on to the floor. The normal wooden chairs that sat around the dining table had been moved into the sitting room, stacked up neatly by the hearth, and replaced with metal stools. The books and journals that had covered the table had been removed and replaced with several sets of flasks, test tubes, and beakers. Sitting next to those were several pairs of gloves, goggles, and aprons that were obviously apart of the required safety equipment needed for chemical experiments. These were something he usually forwent except for the occasional set of goggles he wore, however things had changed and lab safety was something to be taken seriously. Before there wasn’t really a need to be cautious, it was just him and Elizabeth, but now there was him, Elizabeth and their two children: Grace and Lyle.

Sherlock had taken to be more cautious with his experiments since they had children, going so far as renting out 221C from Mrs. Hudson to keep the chemicals out of the main flat, however, now that they were bigger (seven and six) they had expressed that they wanted to see what he did. It was only after a long discussion with Elizabeth did they come upon an agreement: Yes he could teach the children chemistry as long as it was done upstairs and there were a set of rules in place that they had to follow before they even began.

Sherlock stood in the doorway for a moment longer before nodding his head to himself, pleased with the layout he had created for the mini lab.

“Alright you two!” he called as he re-entered the kitchen to grab the tray of chemicals and elements off of the counter and set them of the table away from the edge.

Excited footsteps pounded against the stairs and a small smile graced Sherlock’s face as his two children burst into the kitchen. Their eyes big and sparkling with delight as they saw what he had done to the small space. The smile on his face grew bigger as his daughter slowly approached the table followed by his son.

“You did this for us papa?” Grace asked as she walked towards him, her eyes glued to the table.

“Yes” Sherlock responded as his daughter stopped in front of him, her blue eyes now staring up at him instead of the table. “The two of you said you wanted to learn”

“Does momma know you’re doing this?” His son asked from where he stood behind Grace.

“Yes, your mother and I discussed this the other day Lyle”

The six year old nodded his head, seemingly satisfied at the fact Sherlock had discussed this over with Elizabeth.

“Since that is settled there are some rules if you two are going to do this with me.”Sherlock began as he motioned for his children to take a seat on the stools. “First, you must wear your goggles, gloves, and aprons at all times until I say to take them off. Second, Don’t touch any of the chemicals unless I say other wise, they can be dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt. Third, if anything gets on the floor, I want you to stay were you are until I clean it up. Forth, Always listen to what I am saying.”

The two children nodded slowly at his words and Sherlock proceeded to hand them gloves and goggles. He helped Grace pull her long, dark hair into a ponytail while Lyle struggled to get on his gloves. They both sat patiently as he tied the backs of their aprons closed before he too dawned his own safety gear.

“Now, we begin”

  


Sherlock’s voice carried down the stairs as Elizabeth walked through the street door, though she could not completely make out what he was saying or to whom he was talking too. The nurse ascended the stairs two at a time, with every step Sherlock’s voice becoming clearer, crisper, and what he was saying was becoming more apparent.

“Reactions occur when two or more molecules interact, creating a new molecule”

“What’s a molecule Pa?”

“A molecule are atoms held together by bonds Lyle.”

“Papa?”

“Yes Grace?”

“What’s an atom?”

“I probably should have stared there first...”

Elizabeth smiled at the conversation she heard as she stepped through the front door of the flat.

“I’m home” She called as she slipped off her coat and hung it behind the door.

“Kitchen Momma.” Grace and Lyle said in unison before going quiet once more.

After slipping out of her shoes, Elizabeth made her way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the sitting room. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the door jamb and observed how intently Grace and Lyle watched Sherlock mix a few things in a large beaker. She was pleased that her son and daughter were wearing the appropriate safety gear, though she had to admit that she was surprised to see Sherlock dressed the same way. He had even gone as far as putting his hair up to keep it out of the way. In all of the years she had known Sherlock, he had never been one to dawn safety gear, even in University the most he wore was a set of goggles and the occasional pair of gloves (only if the professor made him). So this was something entirely new to her.

“Well this is new.” She commented as Sherlock looked up to great her

“Ah yes, well, you know, safety first.”


	4. Hide Away

He had been avoiding parties, avoiding people he used to associate with, he had been avoiding Victor for the most part and he had been succeeding. Though that success did not last for long. He had been walking to his dorm in the near darkness, thinking about how he was going to spend his homework free Friday night, when he walked straight into a familiar figure. In the dim light he could see the glee in Victor’s face as he looked down at him. It was that look that froze him to the core. Victor never looked at him like that, at least not with good intentions, not anymore.

Sherlock had apologized for running into him and he had attempted to walk around the taller, stronger male, only to be stopped by a firm grasp on his upper arm. His heart began to pound and he could feel his palms begin to sweat as they stood there for a moment, Victor waiting for him to make a move, for something, anything that would warrant some sort of physical action. However Sherlock did not give him the satisfaction. Instead he stood still, hoping, praying that Victor would just let go and leave him alone.

“There is a party this evening, and I am supposed to bring something.”

Sherlock’s stomach flipped and in a heartbeat he began to pull at the fingers that were digging into his skin, trying to pry him off of him. But it was no use. The grip in his arm became tighter and Victor jerked him forward as he began walking towards his next destination. The chemistry major attempted to pull and twist his arm in an attempt to break free from the iron clad hold. It became obvious it was completely useless as they came upon the house just off campus with the music blaring and groups of individuals standing outside with red plastic cups full of alcohol.

Sherlock had been dragged inside, towards the back, but the moment Victor had let go of his arm, he had bolted. He had managed to slip between the other male and door jamb, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd of people as Victor and a few others he could vaguely remember hollered for him to be stopped.

A few people tried, they had grabbed his shirt, grabbed his arm, and they had even grabbed him by the waist in and attempt to pull him back, and he wasn’t going to allow it. He swung his fists, punching and kicking those who tried to detain him, earning a few marks himself. Though that did not matter as he finally broke through the crowd and stumbled out the front door into the cool night air.

He took less than a minute to gather his breath before he bolted down the street, running as fast as he could with burning lungs and sore limbs until he was certain he would no longer be followed. Sherlock came to a stop in the middle of the street, bending over slightly as he tried to catch is breathe before standing up slowly to take in his surroundings.

The street was familiar, one that he had been down numerous times before after similar and more damaging situations. The chemistry pushed himself forward, stumbling slightly on weak legs as he made his way toward the house he knew Elizabeth lived in.

Elizabeth was had been the reason he had begun to avoid parties, drugs, and Victor. She had been kind and considerate and caring when no one else was. She had no objections to being his friend, to being out in the open with him, she was even brave enough to claim him as hers even after half of the campus told her he was a junkie, a freak. And to top it all off, she had gone out of her way to take care of him, to make sure he was alright after nights like this, even when she had her own problems.

The house appeared to be dark and empty, though Sherlock knew better, he had memorized her families schedule and he knew for a fact she would be home alone for another three or four hours.

He attempted not to look suspicious to any neighbors as he looked for the spare key that had been hidden outside for him. It appeared to work as he slid the key from its hiding place and opened the door, since no one from metro showed up to arrest him.

Sherlock noted how dark and cold the house was as he stepped inside, paying close attention to his surroundings as he moved deeper inside. However, he did not have to travel too far inside to find who he was looking for.

Laying in the middle of the sitting room floor was Elizabeth. A wave of guilt washed over Sherlock as he approached her form, he had come to seek help when she needed help herself.

“Liz?” He asked softly as he knelt down next to her, touching her face gently. A groan escaped her lips and her eyelids fluttered slightly before she opened her eyes. Sherlock’s lips stretched into a soft, relieved smile as her eyes looked over him slowly.

Elizabeth’ body was sore from the hits she had taken earlier and she really had no intention of laying on the floor for as long as she had. She just couldn’t muster up enough energy to push herself up. Instead she laid where she fell, listening to the minutes tick by as the hard surface made her body hurt worse than they already did. She had been about to give getting up another try when the sound of a key turning the tumbler caught her attention. Refusing to move, Elizabeth laid as still as she could with her eyes shut, hoping that whoever had come home would not notice her and leave her to her own devices. The nursing student had been more than surprised when she was greeted to a gentle touch on the face and a welcoming voice calling her name.

“Can you stand?”

“I should be able to.” She replied as Sherlock moved back slightly, one of his hands slipping under her body as he helped her sit up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came for some help, but it looks like we both need some of that.”

Elizabeth could only nod as she placed her hands on Sherlock’s shoulders as she stood up with him. Both of them groaning in discomfort. She gave him a small smile of thanks as she let go of his shoulders before turning slightly, making a move to walk towards the sofa, only to find herself stumbling and falling. However she did not hit the ground, instead her body collided with Sherlock’s as he moved forward to catch her.

“Sorry” she said quietly as he moved one arm under her knees so he could lift her up slowly.

Sherlock had no intentions of leaving Liz there by herself, not when she couldn’t walk without the chance of her falling over, not when she was hurt and needed to be looked after.

Elizabeth sighed softly as he walked towards the front door, her head coming to rest against his shoulder as he moved her slightly in order to take grasp of the door knob.

No one seemed to notice the fact they were leaving or the fact that anyone had been there, or at least that was how it appeared as he made his way down the stoop. He would find out later, if the elderly lady that lived across the street was as nosey as Elizabeth claimed she was.

Half way down the street, Sherlock ducked into an alley way, deciding that moving through London this way was safer, at least for where they were going.

One of the dens he used to frequent was not too far from where Liz lived, and it had been vacant since it had been discovered and raided a few months prior. It was safer than any of their own places and it was close to a few places where he could grab something to eat in the morning.

Sherlock came to a stop in front of the abandoned building, using his foot to wedge open the door from the corner that stuck out at the bottom. With a litter maneuvering, he opened the door wide enough for the two of them to slip inside.

The building was just as vacant as he knew it to be. The only other living thing in the building would most likely be a few stray cats that claimed it after it had been cleared out. Fortunately for the both of them, the mattresses remained against the walls on the floor.

Sherlock walked through the row of mattresses, making his way towards the back of the room, closest to the wall, farthest from the door, and gently laid Elizabeth down on its surface.  She he groaned softly as he slipped his arm out from under her. She had dozed off during their walk to the building and she woke as he laid her down.

He lowered himself down on the space next to her, wrapping his arms around her gently. Slowly she rolled over onto her side, looking at him through her lashes before she rested her head under his chin, laying her arm over his waist.


	5. All That matters

Her body was warm as he laid curled at her side as tears silently streamed down Sherlock's face. His body was sore, just like his soul, he had never felt more betrayed then he had as he laid upon that dingy mattress as Victor Trevor stood over him, the hands he had used to hold him down or hit him with hung at his side as he glared down at him, a smirk appearing on his lips as he uttered "I never loved you, Holmes". Sherlock had no idea how long he had laid there, a mess, as the words sunk in and the tears streamed down his face faster than they had before. He had no idea how much time had actually passed until he managed to stand on shaking legs and put his clothes on before callng Elizabeth. It had been late and he knew he should have sent her a text instead, but he wanted to hear her voice, he wanted to focus on something other than the pain that had engulfed him like the darkness had engulfed the world when the sun fell. 

Elizabeth had answered her mobile on the third ring, her voice distorted by sleep, but it had not taken much time for her to fully wake up, it had taken less time for her to begin the torrent of questions that had become associated with these late night calls. Her voice had been soft, soothing, it had calmed his anxiety as he managed to get out of the flat and make his way in the general direction of her place. His hoodie was pulled up and over his head and hid his face from the sparce passer-byers incase any of them knew him threw Victor.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" She had finaly asked, making him stop and think before answering.

"N-No, I don't, but I can't fo back to Victor.... I can't go back to my place...." his voice was cracking as he shook his head. His mobile still pressed firmly against his ear

"It 's fine, I have something figured out"  the nursing student had answered and she did indeed have something figured out. She had been waiting for him a few streets away from her house, near the bus stop that would take them clear across the city if needed.

"I-I am sorry" he whispered as he came to a halt in front of her. His apology was met with a warm embrace, one his aching body wanted to just melt into. 

"You don't need to apologize to me, you didn't do a damn thing wrong" He nodded against her shoulder for a moment, before pulling away.

"W-Where are we going to go..." he asked her. 

"A place that is out of the way".

 

She had chosen a hotel,  a good distance away from the University Campus, Victor's flat and her own house. The room wasn't as shabby as he thought it would have been, even with the price per night relatively low, it was decent, clean, and safe. The walls were an off white and made it seem bigger than it was, the only bed was in the middle of the room, covered in a green bedspread and was bigger than the one he slept on in his dorm, it was large enough for the both of them. 

It had taken some time to clean him up, ut had taken even more time to treat his wounds, and now he was curled up at Elizabeth's side dressed in one of her larger sweaters and a pair of sweats that she had brought for him to wear. The young womans arm was wrapped around his back, gently running her hand over his side. He had been crying since he had told her what Victor had done to him, how Victor had abused him, how Victor said he didn't love him, he never loved him. He had cried harder when Elizabeth had told him she loved him. He didn't think he deserved her, or her kindness, or her love. But she disagreed with him. 

"Everyone needs someone William" Elizabeth Whispered as she kissed the top of his head as he brushed away tears with her sleeve. 

He nodded. "I-I can sleep on the floor.."

"No you are not, you are going to sleep on this bed"

"You aren't sleeping on the floor either"

"Then we can sleep just like this, if you want, if it makes you feel better, if it makes you feel safe."

"You make me feel safe..."


	6. Something that I need

"What is domestic bliss mycroft? Is that waking up and realizing that for once your husband has not set the kitchen on fire while cooking?"

"Elizabeth, you should check again." The politician murmured, hearing a quick scuttle of feet as the consulting detective shouted curses at the stove.

"I am afraid to look" she mumbled "But I am fairly certain that something just went up in flames... probably the tea towels" she sighed as she ran a hand over her face

Sherlock ran into the living room and hugged Elizabeth from behind. "Tea should be coming soon, darling..."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "He can't even make a simple cup of tea?"

Elizabeth placed her hands on top of his, shooting a glare at Mycroft. "He can make tea just fine, when he has actually slept, he has been awake for nearly four days" she stated as she leaned into him slightly

Sherlock looked to the eldest brother and then to his wife, still a bit shaky from the fact he had refused to sleep since he had been home from the Serbia incident, hiding out in his closet whenever Greg or anyone else tried to contact him. "You didn't have to tell him I was awake since our return to London..." He murmured rather quickly, glancing over his shoulder.

Elizabeth gently ran her hand over his arm as she looked over her shoulder to him. "He deserves to know, for the most part, considering it took longer than expected to get you out." She replied as she looked over her shoulder at him before turning in his arms. "Babe, why don't you sit and I will finish the tea?"

Mycroft smirked at his brother while he watched the two interact, enjoying the way his brother behaved. It was a rare sight to see his brother scared. Sherlock nodded and went to the bedroom, assuming his usual position and curled up in the closet, hiding from civilization.

Elizabeth watched Sherlock retreat before she turned quick on her heels and rounded on her brother in law. "You best wipe that damn smirk off your face. This isn't even remotely funny, he is terrified" her voice was low, cold, and even. "They did god know what to him and you think it is fucking funny? Well let me tell you something, you can find your terrorists by your damn self, so good day"

Mycroft looked at her with shock, eyeing up his sister in law. He took in her anger, the cool and even way she delivered it to him, the way she wasn't up for dealing with how he was or the way he was behaving. He looked to where Sherlock was before nodding. "I apologize, Miss Watson... I'll be heading out now, but please take good care of my baby brother."

Elizabeth looked at him "Yes, well someone has to, don't they? Since you obviously failed in that department, Please see yourself out, Mr. Holmes" the nurse turned rather quickly and made her way into the kitchen, searching for her mug.

Mycroft stood there for a moment as the nurse searched for the cup, taking in her words, the politician tapped the ground with the tip of his umbrella, he didn't respond to her words like he wanted to, instead, he saw his way out of the flat, closing the door behind him as he went.

The nurse sighed as she braced herself against the counter for a moment. Her anger subsiding slowly as the kettle began to whistle. She pushed herself away from the counter, turning off the stove. She shoved the burnt tea towels into the sink before retrieving  the mug from the shelf. Quickly she made the tea the way she took it before heading to the bedroom.

Sherlock sat in the back of the decent sized closet, the enclosed space made him feel safe, but he still refused to sleep even in it's confines. His body tensed as he heard footsteps draw near, and as the closet door slowly opened, revealing his wife, he hated the way he was afraid of her movement around the flat.

She gave him a small smile as she held out the mug for him to take, he hesitated for a moment before slowly leaning forward as she leaned in, his slightly trembling hands grasping the ceramic. She wait until he had a firm enough grip on the mug before letting it go as he shifted back where he was. A soft whimper escaped from his lips as she turned and moved away from the closet. "L-Liz..." the detective hated the way his voice sounded as he closed his eyes and slumped against the hard surface of the wall. Sherlock's self doubt was getting to him, why would someone like Elizabeth want someone as broken as he was?

Tears slowly cascaded down his face, he didn't even hear the rustle of the duvet being pulled from the bed or it being pulled across the floor. "Oh, Sherlock..." he heard his wife mumble as he opened his eyes, he hadn't noticed she had entered the closet until he was looking into her blue eyes. Carefully her hands pried the cup from his, setting it down in the corner as she gently pulled him towards her. He whimpered slightly as the movement pulled at the torn skin of his back, his body remained tense even as he was pulled to her side his head resting on her shoulder.

The younger woman sighed as she reached for the pillow she had brought with her, placing it behind her before she slowly lowered the two of them down. Elizabeth made a squeak in surprise as his arms quickly wrapped around her waist tightly. “S-Sorry” he breathed against her neck, and she felt the grip around her loosen slightly.

“Don’t apologise” She murmured as she ran a hand through his curls with one hand as the other fished around for the duvet before pulling it over them. tucking it snuggly around her husband. “I know you are terrified and I know you hurt, but you need to get some sleep okay? I will be right here, keeping you safe” His arms went back to the vice like grip as before, as if this time he didn’t want to lose her, not again, not after last time she had gone missing. His breath hitched as if he too was thinking about it, she hushed him softly, pressing her lips to his forehead.

"When you wake up, I will be right here" she murmured, he nodded as he closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, maybe if he did then he wouldn't hurt as bad.


End file.
